I find myself conflicted when I consider the alternative to doing what makes me happy is pleasing others; your unrestrained judgement of my cynicism apparent through the page and before you ever become aware of your own impulses to declare your disapproval. That is not to say I am choosing my happiness over that of any well-wisher, and in almost all instances I would maintain that a large portion of what sustains my net self-satisfaction is the transferring of positivity to others, but to strike a balance where-by creating an equilibrium between gratification of self and those around you not only leads to growth but breeds progress. It’s a very self serving business we find ourselves in, being a person is rarely the ideal situation and one that by nature is high risk and for most of us has very little yield or return on investment, and so we tend to cover our losses by betting against ourselves in an irrational attempt to rationalise the inconsistencies of a market that simply has no interest in equality or conformity.
It’s ironic how we have constructed a unique genius for pattern recognition throughout the rise of human cognisance to a degree that we are capable of generating our entire environments to better suit our passion for self preservation, rooted into the very being of how we function and yet we have no prescience for duplicity or any such like behaviour that slowly corrodes away all semblance of our humanity until we barely recognise our own self; like atrophy of the soul. This too like the majority of epiphanies has very little consistency with what some might call absolute truths, that being said I deem it convenient at best that we find ourselves rejecting any such notion that we are not awake at the wheel, although understandable when at worst the alternative is collusion between our lack of foresight and those who possess the ability to create opportunity from chaos.